The image of the severed head still haunts me, though maybe ‘haunt’ isn’t the right word. I find it comforting, in a strange sort of way. Even now I can hear the raucous belly-laugh, mirrored in Medb’s smiling face. A face forever frozen in time.

Everything happened so quickly. I don’t remember how long I lay unconscious.

What I do remember is crawling to safety and the shock of seeing Medb’s eyes staring at me. Medb’s blood was everywhere. Her blessed, rose-coloured blood covered me like a liquid shroud. I could even taste it on my lips, and feel it running down my beard. I felt so alive! But soon her blood was the smell of death. Death mingled with car oil.

Although my eyes were a blur, some of my other senses were working overtime, trying to make sense of my new environment:

Creaking metal.

Burnt rubber.

The wind in the trees.

Then silence.

And in the silence, three drops of blood fell on my forehead in slow motion …